The Enemy of Oz
by danderson
Summary: Missing scenes from the show. Rated for adult content. R&R please. Excuse typos, there are some.
1. That Night

"Citizens of Oz, there is an enemy that must be found and captured! Believe nothing she says. She's evil. Responsible for the mutilation of these poor, innocent monkeys! Her green skin is but an outward manifestation of her twisted nature! This distortion... this repulsion... this... Wicked Witch!!!!!!"

_Green skin?_

From his place on the sidewalk, Fiyero could see a ripple effect of panic manifest itself in the Emerald City. Windows slammed shut, shutters were barred, people appeared in doorways with blunt objects, and the shouts and wails and hisses of the people resounded off all the buildings. He'd been compelled to follow Galinda and Elphaba to the Emerald City after spending three hours at Shiz going insane with the lack of them. Or, at least, he pretended he missed 'them'.

Despite his best efforts to ignore the feelings that had been overtaking him, he knew that he only missed one of the girls, and it wasn't his bubbly girlfriend.

He thought fast. Where would she go? Where _could_ she go? She would need to eat, and sleep, and change her clothes... He took off at a sprint, hoping he could catch her if he got there fast enough. He was closer than she'd been when she'd fled the Wizard's palace, but she'd been traveling longer than him, now.

Arriving at The Epic Vert, he flew through the doors quickly, and looked along the check-in desk until he spotted a young woman. Rushing to her, he said, "Excuse me, I'm Fiyero Tiggular, and I'm looking for a guest here, Galinda Upland?"

As he'd hoped, the girl recognized him and flushed. He'd found it useful, in the past, to ask for favors from a young woman, if possible, and that method didn't fail him. "Oh, uh," she said, pulling out a ledger book. "We're not really... But I know the two of you... Umm... 417," the young woman said breathlessly.

He flashed her the best Charming Prince Smile he could muster, and, leaning toward her, said, "I wanted to surprise her, with a present. Is there any way I could get in there without her?"

The girl looked horrified. "It's really not allowed..."

"She had a very important meeting with the Wizard today," he paused, looking at her name tag, "Gertrude. I'd love to surprise her, we're all so proud."

_I'm want to marry her room mate, the Enemy of Oz._

"I suppose, your Highness, that -"

"Fiyero, please," he said, with another winning smile.

She slipped him the key without another word.

Thank Oz Galinda insisted upon traveling in style and comfort. The Epic Vert was a nice hotel, if not a little slack on the security, but the ease with which he had obtained the key was currently Fiyero's favourite thing about the place. If they'd been at the Wizard's Palace, he'd have been completely screwed.

Bursting into the room on the fourth floor, he slammed it shut and locked every lock he could, then looked around frantically to see if anything looked out of place. What was clearly Galinda's side of the room looked like her suitcases had thrown up. The other half was tidy, and, as far as he could tell, still perfectly packed.

A noise at the window drew his attention, and he stepped into the shadows and watched as Elphaba swung the large glass barrier inward and jumped into the room, looking pale and frazzled.

"Elphaba," he said, and she jumped. He rushed into the moonlight. "It's me, Fiyero, don't worry." She looked relieved, and he walked to her. "I hoped you'd come back here, it's the first place I looked when I heard what - ...When I heard."

She looked panicked. "Do you think other people will come?"

"No," he promised, soothingly. "Firstly, nobody but me would be foolish enough to think you'd return to your hotel. And even if they did, I bolted every lock. You can't open some of those from the outside. You'll have time to get out the window."

"How did you get in?"

"I smiled at the girl behind the counter, she gave me a key."

"Well, that's security," Elphaba said, her voice robust with sarcasm.

"Hey, this is a very exclusive smile," Fiyero said, taking another step toward her.

_She looks so beautiful. Was she always this beautiful, and I just didn't notice? I should have been after her from the beginning._

"How did you get to the Emerald City so fast?"

Fiyero flushed, feeling like she could real his thoughts. "I missed you," he murmured, staring at the floor. "I left about three hours after you did."

"Glinda will probably be questioned for hours," Elphaba apologized.

"Glinda?"

"Your girlfriend, formerly known as 'GAlinda'," Elphaba explained. Fiyero remembered that she'd changed her name. "The one you missed."

"I didn't say that," Fiyero sighed, stepping toward her once more. They were very close now. "I said I missed _you_."

Elphaba shifted uncomfortably. "Difficult homework assignment?"

Fiyero decided not to acknowledge her question, because it was derogatory. "So now what?"

"I just needed some things," Elphaba said, her voice tense once more. "I thought I could grab them... But there are things back at Shiz. Books, personal things..." Elphaba gasped. "My bottle, the green one!"

That was the breaking point for her. Tears filled her eyes, and her hands flew to her face. With a final step, Fiyero closed the gap between them, pulling her close to him and kissing her head. "Oh, Fae," he murmured, finding himself near tears as well. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please, don't cry, shh..."

"Fiyero," she said, pulling back to looked at him. His eyes offered nothing but support, which almost made it worse, but she was glad she could talk to him. "What do I do?"

"I don't know, Elphaba," he said, smoothing her hair away from her face and gazing into her eyes. "I wish we had more time, I wish... There are so many things I want to say." She looked confused, but he couldn't satiate her curiosity now. "No matter what, though, I believe in you. Always," he promised.

"Thank you," she said, softly. Breathing in to clear her head, she pulled away from his comforting embrace. "I need to collect my things, the things I have." She paused for a moment, shaking her head back and forth, as if her brain was literally wrestling with something and the force of it was knocking her head around. "I really can't risk going back to Shiz," she said, decidedly.

"I'll make sure whatever you need stays safe," he said, as she opened her suitcase and rifled through it. It didn't take her long to look ready to go. She glanced toward to window. "Do you have to go?" She raised one eyebrow at him, and he felt practically disabled with stupidity. "I know you have to go, I meant... Do you have to go right away?"

"Why," she murmured, a little icily, telling herself to flee, to ignore him and go while she could. "What do you want with me?"

The question was too enticing. The answer was too clear. In two strong strides, he crossed the space between them and pulled her into a fierce kiss. When she pulled away, confused, he answered her question, again, this time with words. "I want all of you."

Elphaba shook her head. "You can't, you're... You're too... It's not possible."

"I should have said it forever ago," he said pulling her close again and kissing her neck. "I came as soon as I was sure," he offered.

"Fiyero, we can't -"

"We have to," he said, his voice breaking. "I need you. You're leaving, and I can't -" He kissed her again, deeply, and dropped down onto her bed, pulling her with him. "Please, just let me kiss you a little while longer."

His arms around her felt so strong, and his mouth on hers felt so warm. There would be none of that where she was going. There had been none of that where she had been. "Alright," she sighed, feeling relieved to do the wrong thing for once, and to be doing it when the result was so pleasing.

His lips memorized her face, traveling from her lips, over her cheeks, to her nose, her forehead, all around her face, along her jawline, and down her neck. She found her hands in his hair, and, before either of them could comprehend why or how, Fiyero's hands were exploring her body, and she was sinking back, inviting him to climb on top of her, to be in control of her.

It felt much better than either had expected. Fiyero, who had been with his share of women, had never felt so alive when kissing any of them. And Elphaba, who had never really been touched by anyone, had never felt the pleasure of kissing at all. His fingers worked the buttons of her dress, needing more of her, needing to make her shiver and tremble and beg and moan and want. He wanted her to want him as badly as he wanted her.

She did, and had for quite some time.

But he'd been with Galinda, who was now Glinda. Her best friend, her room mate. As Elphaba thought about it, she felt the suffocating grip of guilt rear its head once, in a feeble attempt to be a good friend. Glinda didn't deserve this. She probably didn't love Fiyero the way Elphaba did, but she did love him with all she had, with all she _could_.

She was just about to stop him, to sit up and say that they couldn't, when his mouth found her collarbone and his hands slid her dress off. She opened her eyes - she hadn't realized she'd closed them - and found she was left only in a slip, and his shirt was mostly undone. It felt so good, and he looked so good... She reached up and finished unbuttoning his shirt, then slid it off of him, feeling the heat coming off his body and feeling a flush grow on her, as well.

She barely felt his touch as he slid her slip down, off her shoulders, but a moment later, when his hand found her breast, she knew she was very close to being naked. Braced on one elbow, with the hand of that arm cupping her face, he lay next to her on the bed, tracing her breasts alternately, until, losing all will to wait, his mouth followed their lead.

"Ah," Elphaba whimpered, her hand flying up to her face to cover his, the other grasping at nothingness and finally settling on his head. He worked on one until she was writhing, then moved to the other, his hand and mouth trading off as Elphaba felt more and more foggy.

He sat up on his knees, looking down at her, and pulled her slip down her body, right off of her, and paused, knowing that her underwear was the last step, but not knowing if she was ready for it. She looked into his eyes, though she wasn't as focused as she usually was, and slid her hands down to slide her underwear off. He assisted her, gently, and pulled her free of her clothing the rest of the way, then unbuttoned his pants and pushed off the remainder of his clothes.

Taking her knees in his hands, he tenderly spread her legs, and then slid down to lie on top of her, thrilled that her legs immediately wrapped around his. He stroked her face with his thumbs and kissed her. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, nuzzling her with his nose. "Are you ready?"

"I want you," she panted, her hands digging into his back. He hadn't thought he could be any more aroused, but hearing her state her desire pushed him past the point of no return. Drawing her tongue into his mouth and sucking on it with fervour, he entered her, and she let out a noise of surprise, pain and excitement.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said. She'd always been told it would hurt, but the pain wasn't as bad as she'd imagined. It felt good, it felt complete. "Yero," she sighed. "Love me."

"I do," he whispered, as he began to move. He went slow, each thrust rocking her, causing her to gasp. But she clutched at him, and moved with him, hiking her legs up higher, around his waist, and he allowed her urging to control him, and, before long, began to thrust roughly. He took them higher, farther, as she sighed and moaned and whimpered and gasped beneath him, as he forced his hands under her and pulled her flush against him, wanting to touch every inch of her at once.

Her nails dug into him, and her open mouth caught his shoulder, and he knew she was close. To give her joy, to experience making love with her, it was the greatest feeling of his life to date, and, as he felt the tightness around him give way to the rhythmic pulse of her climax, he thrust into her deeper. He continued to pleasure her, until she moaned, and came again, then, with a final thrust, allowed himself to finish with her.

Gasping for breath, he dropped down on top of her, and felt her heaving beneath him. Refusing to let go of her, he held her firm and kissed her over and over, until she finally came to her senses, and try to push him off of her. "I have to go."

He rolled over, stunned, then sat up and pursued her. "Don't," he said. "Not yet, just a little while longer."

"I should have gone right away," she said, refusing to meet his gaze as she pulled on her clothes. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, standing naked in the middle of the room, begging her to stay, and pulled on his undershorts and pants.

"Fae," he whispered, and she paused at the yearning in his voice. Looking at him, she wished she could stay with him, that they could return to bed and curl up together. But the look on his face, the pain in his eyes... She went to where she'd tossed his shirt, and picked it up, then, slowly, tenderly, put it back on him. Dropping down, she kissed just above his waistband, then buttoned his shirt at the bottom. She kissed up his stomach, buttoning the shirt behind her, up his chest, to his neck. "You tricked me," he murmured.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he smiled. "Out of all the times I've ever put a shirt on, that was, by far, the sexiest." He caught her around the waist and kissed her, feeling her body melt into his. "If you can't stay, then I'm going with you."

Hey eyes widened at the idea, but she quickly shook her head. "My broom, I... I have to fly, and I can't... I can barely keep it steady for myself, I couldn't possibly attempt to have you on there, too. I'm just learning," she admitted.

His heart sank. "I could meet you somewhere," he tried.

"Fiyero," Elphaba said, the tone of her voice letting him know the awful truth was about to come out. "You can't leave. What about Glinda?"

Fiyero had forgotten her. Elphaba, too, had let her friend slip her mind until he'd said he wanted to come with her. She told herself that Glinda had abandoned her, to try to make up for what she had just done. She told herself that Glinda would never have to know, so it was alright. If Fiyero ran off with her, Glinda would know. And stealing her friend's boyfriend was infinitely worse than being left to go the rest of the way she'd chosen to go alone.

It was one thing to allow herself this one opportunity to be with Fiyero, hell, to be with _anyone_. It was quite another to run off into the night with him, even if her broom _could_ have held two people.

"I can't possibly stay with Glinda _now_," he said. "I was going to end things with her when I saw her, anyway. But after this..."

He looked so young, all of a sudden. So... innocent. A man who had probably slept with at least one woman in every city for miles around, looked like he was a child once more. It threw her, and it broke her heart. "Fiyero," she sighed, her voice soft and gentle. "She's just lost her friend. She will need you. There are only two of you who really know that I'm not - ...Please, take care of her."

"Elphaba, please don't ask me."

"I am asking you." Elphaba moved toward the window, preparing to go.

"But I love you," he whispered. Suddenly, she knew why he looked so innocent. Having sex with someone was one thing - making love to someone was entirely different. He'd never done this before, and, now, just as he was letting himself fall, he was realizing there was nothing to catch him.

She walked back to him and placed her hands on his face, looking into his eyes. "Never say that again."

"Why not?"

"Because it will hurt you. And because when you do, I want to say it back. And if I said it back, I'd never be able to part with you." Fiyero looked like he was turning the idea to say it again over in his head, then, sadly and resignedly, nodded. "Someday, maybe, we can say it to each other. But not until the worst is past. You have to forget this ever happened. But also," she added, "try to remember?"

Her hopeful smile was like a secret, like a promise. He smiled and kissed her. "How could I ever forget?" He kissed her, once, twice, his face contorting as he struggled not to cry. "Go," he said, kissing her again. "Go." She turned and fled toward the window, feeling as though she might cry, herself. "Fae," he called, one last time. She turned back to look at him. "I - I'm not going to say it," he promised, his voice breaking. "But I feel it."'

She drank in the sight of him, bathed in moonlight, as beautiful as ever. "So do I."

And with that, she was gone, out the window, disappearing into the dark. He yelped as if he'd been struck, and dropped down onto her bed, his head in his hands, to sob. He sobbed until his lungs ached, until his head throbbed, until his face stung. Then, morosely, he stood and remade Elphaba's bed, settling on top of it so that he could hug her pillow to him.

When Glinda entered, hysterical, an hour or so later, he was there to hold her. She was so grateful, it made him sick. What a wonderful boyfriend he was, to be there for her when she needed him most. And how considerate, to sleep on Elphaba's bed, rather than disturb all her clothing. She cried in his arms, and then fell asleep, and he pretended she was someone else, telling himself it wouldn't be long until he could find her.

**So? I tried to write it so that it fit in just after Defying Gravity, but didn't alter anything else in the story. I was going to add something to clarify the "It wasn't like that" after "Wonderful", but I think it makes sense. It wasn't "all this time", even if they were together that once. Also, it explains why we never hear them say that they love each other, AND why Elphaba is so willing to believe Fiyero cares for her. Think about how readily she accepts it in the show... That was always a little OOC for me, I'm not sure why.**


	2. One Year Later

The media circus surrounding the pair was, at best, laughable. But most of the time, Fiyero Tiggular found himself angry about the whole thing. He didn't understand what the big deal was. Yes, Glinda was beautiful and beloved, and yes, he was handsome and heroic.

Or so everyone said.

He didn't feel like such a hero.

Today, as the two of them visited a local orphanage, he was struck with yet another one of his many urges to run away screaming. He could disappear into the hills, grow his hair and beard out, and live at one with the animals. Or Animals. Or both. And he could mash up plants and roots and everyone would call him That Crazy Hermit and he could make a big green existence for himself, out there with all the plants.

Except, then he wouldn't be on the Gale Force, which was his best network with which to find Elphaba. Sure, they'd never really come close to catching her, but that didn't mean they wouldn't. Plus, anytime anyone said anything about her, he knew about it.

The plants and animals wouldn't be as informative.

The children at the orphanage all tugged at his heart. He wanted children, he knew. He'd always viewed offspring as Heirs, as was custom. Then, he'd met Elphaba... and fallen in love with Elphaba... and wanted to father her children. The idea of making something out of love was romantic, was epic and brave. The baby would be a piece of both of them...

"Ooh, Fiyero, look at _her_," Glinda sighed, pointing at a precious little blonde with blue eyes. Fiyero thought it was a little vain to be immediately drawn to the child who most resembled her, but Glinda wasn't perfect, and he didn't expect her to be.

"She's very pretty," he murmured, quietly. "They're all beautiful."

A plain girl nearby smiled to be lumped in with everyone and called beautiful.

It was the babies who got to Fiyero the most. In the year since that one night he'd spent with Elphaba, he'd become increasingly fond of babies, though he mostly kept his sentiments to himself, lest Glinda decide that making one was a very good idea. He'd never get away from her, then! He could leave her, it would be awful, but he could. But not a baby, not a child who had done nothing wrong.

Not that Glinda had done anything, wrong, either...

While Glinda was off reading a story to the children, Fiyero managed to wander to the nursery. The woman who was working there caught sight of him, and was surprised, but saw instantly how taken he was with the babies.

"Fond of children, are you, sir?"

Fiyero nodded a little sadly. "In my own way," he said. "There are so many who need good homes."

"Are you thinking of adopting?"

He met her gaze. "Secretly, I am," he admitted. "I haven't talked it over with... I've been thinking it's a good thing to do, but haven't made any plans." He made his way through the small cribs that held the babies, observing each, ignoring the cries of the few who needed to be burped, changed, fed, or simply held, as best he could. "When they cry, I just want to take them all home," he murmured.

"Most people have the opposite reaction," she nurse chuckled, picking up one such baby and holding him close.

"I'm sure I would before long," he sighed. "But I'm -" Whatever words had been in his head vanished as he caught sight of the little girl in the corner. He knew she was a girl because her information was printed on a pink card. But he would have suspected it, even if there'd been no way to know.

She had warm, dark eyes, and dark hair, and looked... smart. How a baby could look smart, he didn't know, but she did. "Oh, that one," the nurse said, catching him paused in wonder at the infant. "Everybody loves her. Never cries, mostly fusses if something is wrong, and, even then, not often."

"Then why hasn't she been adopted?"

"We think her mother is nearby," the woman said. "We get notes about her every once in awhile, notes _for_ her, for when she's older, and they're very well-written, full of passion, hopes, and love. We're hoping she can get her life together and come back for her, because, to be honest... There's something about her. We keep her from the people we don't much like. We want the best home for her." She looked at him intently. "Can you think of one?"

Everything in him wanted to take that baby home. But adopting a baby with Glinda would be like _having_ a baby with her. And he couldn't very well adopt her on his own and refuse to put her name down on the certificate. "Not right now," he mumbled, watching the little girl, and tentatively reaching out a finger toward her hand. "Maybe soon..." She reached out and grasped it firmly, briefly, then let go just as quickly. "I better get to safety," he said. "Or, get back," he corrected. "I better get back."

He nodded in thanks at the nurse, who made her way curiously to the little girl in the crib. "You have his nose," she whispered to her.

**AN:**

**I broke my own heart on this one. :(**

**Dedicated to elphaba-thropp, who wanted more of this, hence my changing it from a Oneshot to an In-Progress. Any ideas for another missing moment? Throw them at me.**


	3. Thirteen Months of Wait

He didn't know that she watched over him, or, at least, he had no solid evidence. And when he felt like she was nearby, he chalked it up to hopes and wild delusions. Madness. Yearning.

Yearning was the best word for how he felt when he thought of Elphaba. Aching, twisting yearning like tar in his veins, traveling to and collecting around his heart. He could feel her under his fingertips, pressed against his lips; her arms clutching him, her hair flying around him, and, worst of all, he could imagine she was simply sitting with him.

Making love to her had been transcendent, but he couldn't pretend that the way he missed her was purely physical, or even mostly physical. He missed the way it felt to simply be around her. To look at her, at the myriad of facial expressions she possessed, all subtle but distinct. To watch the way her body contorted into anger, impatience, and, every so often, happiness.

All five senses wanted to be satiated by her once more.

It was easy for him to think he was imagining things when he thought he spotted a flash of green in the crowd, or hidden in some tower. When he heard something whip through the air above him, he told himself it was a bird or a bat. He knew he was pretending she was around because it comforted him.

One night, very late, he was unable to sleep, as he often was, but, this time, decided that it would be a good idea to take a walk. He usually only made it as far as the washing room, or to the balcony, to vomit into a basin or off the edge, respectively. But tonight, in the chill, he pulled his cloak tight around him and left the Wizard's palace, where he "oz-fficially" had his own room but spent most nights with Glinda. It would have been better if she hadn't been so available to him; he slept with her out of weakness, out of guilt.

"_Fiyero, dearest, are you coming?"_

How could he say no? She looked at him so adoringly. And he did care for her - maybe, one of these times, he'd realize he loved her? And instead of taking out his frustration on her, pretending she was taller and stronger instead of tiny and all soft curves, he'd look down at her to realize she was the one for him?

It wasn't going to happen. He knew it wouldn't. He wished he could bring himself to say that he was tired, and go to his own room, where he couldn't hurt her, where he couldn't do things that made him feel like the worst human being who ever lived. He used to think he was brainless - lately, when he thought about Glinda, he just felt heartless.

The streets were deserted at the late hour. It was cold, but it felt nice to know it was the weather, and not just the permanent chill of regret that clung to him.

He found himself back in the courtyard of the Wizard's palace before long, and stood in the middle, staring at the banners and flyers that plastered literally every surface. Long, grotesque tapestries of Elphaba, looking evil. To Fiyero, she could have just been debating the rights of Animals. That glint in her eye was just passion. The twist of her lip and the set of her jaw were determination.

He stared at one of the posters, drank in the image and, after casting a quick glance around, whispered, "I'm sorry, Fae." A few tears rolled down his face, and stung in the cold, but what was a little cold salt in comparison to the ripped apart feeling of being blindly in love with her?

He turned to go, not being able to look at her anymore, and felt angry at her. Beyond angry. She could just come back and take him with her, if she wanted to. She could release him from this misery. It was _her_ choice to be apart - she knew where to find him, hadn't he been searching hard enough for her? Didn't she think he deserved to find her? Nobody had looked harder, exhausted more leads, pored over more maps, interviewed more suspected connections than him. _Nobody_.

"But you're still out there, aren't you," he spat, spinning around to stare at a banner of her again. The green flashed in the moonlight. "It doesn't matter to you that I'm searching for you, you don't care that it's _all I do_, you're just out there, and -" he cut himself off, before his voice could get too loud and wake someone. "I miss you," he whispered. "I miss you."

Elphaba, from her place on the roof, watched him wander away, looking deflated, and closed her eyes, steeling herself against chasing after him and telling him she was sorry, she knew he was searching, and she wished he could find her. She would give anything to be found by him, discovered, and taken in his arms and discovered again and again. He weakened her, made her consider giving up the fight, made her _actually think seriously_ about simply running to him, and surrendering, if it meant they could be together.

She'd thought sometimes that she could maybe talk to him, briefly. He managed to find ways to be alone often enough. But any time she thought of the look in his eyes the last time she'd left him, she knew that, yes, she _would_ do anything to be with him, and that his mere presence, that one simple word from him, would cloud her judgment far too much for her to fight through. So she kept herself away, at a distance, watching him suffer and hoping he would eventually give up on her.

Fiyero paused when his hand touched the door. There it was again, that Elphaba feeling. He didn't turn his head, didn't try to see her, for he knew she couldn't be there. What were the chances? Taking in a deep breath, he existed in the moment, then pulled open the door and disappeared into the palace.

He didn't know that she watched over him, or, at least, he had no solid evidence. And when he felt like she was nearby, he chalked it up to hopes and wild delusions.

Madness.

Yearning.


	4. Six Months Old

It had been awhile since he'd had time to get away. Since the first time he'd set his eyes on the baby, he'd tried to see her once a week. But this time, it had been three.

"Mr. Tiggular, so good to see you!"

They all knew him, now. They smiled at him as he entered, not bothering to ask where he was going or how long he'd be. It was impossible to say if he'd be an hour or four, it really depended on how entranced he got with her.

He'd named her. He called her Fae, but only when he thought nobody was listening. Truthfully, one of the nurses had overheard it one night and found it perfect, told the others, and it was her unofficial name. Fiyero couldn't help naming the little dark-eyed beauty after Elphaba, though he realized now that he might struggle with calling Elphaba that if he ever found her again.

"She's not so colicky, now," he commented from his place in the rocking chair when a nurse entered. The last time he'd been, she'd been a little under the weather, and it had driven him insane wondering how she was while he was tied up with useless Glinda appearances.

"She was barely colicky to begin with," the woman, Elda, smiled. "It's so odd that she never cries."

"Some people just don't cry," he murmured absently, staring at the little bundle in his arms. "She smiles a lot."

Fae certainly did smile often. She would coo with pleasure and stretch her arms toward him when he arrived to see her. She grasped at his fingers, his sleeves, his hair, looking amused with herself the entire time. In the fifteen months since he'd seen Elphaba, Fiyero had never felt so near contentedness as when he was looking at that baby.

"Sir, it's hardly my place, but I have to admit that it's quite clear you wish to adopt this child. I can't think of why you haven't," Elda said, gently.

"What about the mother, doesn't she write anymore?"

"We haven't gotten a letter in a few weeks."

"That's a shame," he said, staring into Fae's eyes. "I hope she's alright."

"We'll never know, really. So have you thought of it?"

"Can I tell you the truth, Elda?" The woman nodded, moving closer to him and pulling up a chair. "I would take her home right now if I could. But that would mean taking her home to Glinda, and... I'm not sure if Glinda and I are ready for children just yet." He avoided meeting her gaze, sure that she would see what he meant.

Elda suspected a divide between the pair, noting that the lonely Fiyero who she observed smiling falsely at public events was very different from the lonely Fiyero who couldn't keep his face from a warm smile when in the quiet nursery alone with this baby. And, though the change in his demeanor was evident, the loneliness was the same. "It's a big commitment," she said, her voice agreeing with both his voiced and unvoiced doubts. "And the two of you aren't married, or even engaged."

"Exactly. Is it even legally possible for me to adopt her as a single man?"

"I'm not sure, sir."

"Please, call me Fiyero."

It was little things like that that endeared him to Elda so much. She'd met many supposedly important people in her years raising children, but never one as genuinely deserving of respect as Fiyero Tiggular. He earned it by giving it, by being a noble man instead of just dancing through his title of Nobleman. "I couldn't possibly," she murmured.

"Then I can't call you Elda, can I?"

"You've got me there," she chuckled. "As I was saying, I'm not sure about a man adopting on his own. A woman, possibly, if she was family... But your status should exempt you from most of those regulations."

"I just can't leave her here anymore," he sighed. "Every time I have to go, it gets harder and harder."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

Elda was, by this point, ninety-nine percent certain that Fiyero was somehow related to this infant. She'd looked a little like him at three months, but now, at six months, the resemblance was getting stronger and stronger. She wondered if _he_ knew, and couldn't admit it. She looked nothing like Glinda, and there would be no reason for them to leave her in an orphanage if she _was_ Glinda's. It would be impossible for him to admit he had fathered the child.

"She's so easy to love," he said. "You know that."

It was true. Everyone loved little Fae, why should Fiyero be any different, relation or no? "She looks like you."

Fiyero, honestly, looked at the child and saw mostly her big brown eyes. It was hard not to get lost in them, and so, when he thought of her, he thought of that feature, so different from his own. It had never occurred to him that she might look like _him_. "Do you think so?" He was clearly surprised.

"You don't think so?"

He studied the baby in his arms. "She has brown eyes," he said.

"Yes," Elda sighed. "Eyes are just one feature, though."

Fiyero was feeling more than a little uncomfortable, as if a veil was being lifted and the truth had been sitting there behind it the whole time. How old was Fae? Six months? He hadn't been sleeping with Glinda fifteen months ago, he hadn't been sleeping with anyone, except that one night -

No.

It wasn't possible. Was it? "She doesn't look like Glinda, though, so, clearly..."

"Of course, sir."

Elphaba. She looked just enough like Elphaba to have grabbed his attention and not enough like her for him to realize _why_. Elphaba. He'd slept with her fifteen months ago, give or take. Only once, was once enough? He supposed it was. Of all the amazing things that had happened that night, why couldn't a child be one of them? Elphaba.

Elphaba.

"Does everyone think she looks like me?"

"Not as far as I know. I haven't mentioned it to anyone." She really hadn't. No need to draw potentially negative attention to a man who seemed so interested in giving a good home to a beautiful baby.

"But you do."

"Her face shape, a little. And her nose..." Elda stood. "I don't mean to pry. I shouldn't have mentioned it. I am deeply sorry -"

"No," he cut her off, pulling Fae to him and standing. "No, don't apologize, please. It's an honour to be equated to something so beautiful." He placed Fae, who had dozed off, back in her crib. "Just... Please don't mention it to anyone else? It would cause such a commotion, given my status in Oz. Suspected scandal... I had a pretty low reputation awhile ago, mainly for being thoughtless. But I've been trying so hard to be _good_."

"You _are_ good," Elda interrupted. "Please continue to come see her."

Fiyero nodded. "If she's here, I'll be here." He paused. "Find out if I can take her home without another name on the form."

As Fiyero left the room, a green woman at the window thought she might cry, but didn't. Some people just don't cry.


	5. A Month After That

Glinda knew that Fiyero went places without her. She had no real reason to ask him not to - she knew he wasn't doing anything shady, he was too high-profile to get away with it. But she wondered where he went all the time...

When he wasn't around, when she didn't have something to do, Glinda thought of Elphaba. She _hated_ thinking of Elphaba, and not just because she was afraid of what worry lines would do to her beautiful face. She missed her friend, regretted that she hadn't bothered to spend every moment with her when they'd roomed together. Being green wasn't so bad, was it? Glinda couldn't recall how she'd come to the conclusion that Elphaba's verdigris was a negative thing. She was a different person, then. She even had a different name.

"Fiyero?" Ten minutes of thought about Elphaba sent Glinda bustling around for a distraction. "FiFi?" She found a maid. "Excusify me," she chirped. "Have you seen Fiyero?"

"No, sorry, your Goodness," the woman apologized, shaking her head.

"Thanks, anyway," Glinda said, glumly.

Outside the palace, the carriage she and Fiyero shared was just returning as she looked out the front windows, surveying the city and feeling lonely. When she spotted it, she pranced down to catch up with the driver and inquire about where he'd taken Fiyero. "To the orphanage," the driver said, as if it were common knowledge that Fiyero went there.

"The _orphanage_?"

"Yes, ma'am, the one on Baum."

Glinda got there not long after Fiyero. He'd stopped to visit with some of the children, and, therefore, was nowhere near the baby he'd been visiting for four months. He didn't sigh with relief about that until later, however. When he first saw her, he was simply upset that she was there at all. "Glinda," she said, clearly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, hoping she sounded pleasant. "I didn't know you came here. Apparently everyone else, did, though..."

"Yes, well, I like to come, it feels nice to give back" he said, fidgeting. A nurse discreetly ushered the children out of the room, affording the couple some privacy.

"I just don't understand it, though," Glinda said. "You're visiting them just because it makes you happy?"

"I like to visit with the children," he said. "How is that so hard to believe?"

"I just don't know why you'd come back by yourself, dearest."

"Why not?"

"Well, when we came before -"

"We came for the publicity," he grunted. "I come to spend time with the children."

He might as well have slapped her across the face. His words stung just as much as his hand would have. "I care about children!" Her response was foolish, she knew. Not articulate, not overly convincing. What had she ever done to prove she cared about children? "I do..." she added.

"Glin, this was just something for me. When you're busy doing other things, I come visit the kids. It's not a big deal, I wasn't trying to leave you out, I just didn't think you'd be interested." If she insisted on coming back with him every time, he'd murder her and bury her sparkly pink body in pieces all over Oz.

"I just feel so strangeified knowing you've been doing something that I had no idea about, darlingest. That's all."

He wanted to smack the childlike pout off her face, and scream at her to be an adult. He knew that it was because he felt like Fae was threatened by Glinda's presence, and felt awful about it, but couldn't seem to calm down and quell his anger. "Well, now you know."

"So, now what?"

"I have a routine," he said. "I should get to it."

Glinda knew that Fiyero didn't want her there. She didn't know why, but she didn't want to dwell on it in case the reason for it was hurtful. "Alright, then, darlingest... I'll see you back at the Palace, I suppose."

Her voice was small, and wounded, and Fiyero was torn. Asking her to stay would make her happy, and, after all, it wasn't her fault that she wasn't Elphaba. But he wasn't willing to hold and feed and rock Fae in front of Glinda, and so Glinda had to go. "I shouldn't be long," was all he could think to say.

When he'd finished reading to the children, and they'd been shooed off to prepare for bed, he made his way up to the nursery, hoping Elda was alone.

She wasn't. Could nothing go right tonight?

She smiled at him, apologizing with her eyes that they couldn't talk about the things they most needed to talk about. He was disappointed, but seeing Fae made him feel instantly better. Seven months old and she'd been perfect for every moment of it, he was sure. Beautiful, entrancing and precious, so very precious, he thought it might break his heart. Eventually, Elda managed to get him alone.

"They've never let a man adopt on his own before," she whispered. "They wanted to know why a man would, and said that they could think of no reason. Apparently, a man who can't make a commitment to a woman is in no position to commit to a child." Elda's voice revealed how stupid she found that logic to be. "I could have pressed for more details, but worried about revealing you. I'm sorry."

"No, that's perfectly understandable," he sighed, feeling trapped. Would he have to marry Glinda to keep Fae with him? Did he love the baby more than he hated lying to his girlfriend. Even if Fae wasn't his, and her resemblance was coincidence, he was still inarguably more than a little attached to the infant. "Elda, do you have any of the letters from the mother?"

Elda looked as though she'd been asked to kill the Wizard. "I do," she admitted quietly. "I have all of them."

"Would I be able to see them?" It was the only test he could think of. He'd know Elphaba's writing anywhere, any version of it. He'd noticed, in his brief time with her, that she had a few different fonts. One was rushed, furious and spiky. Another was graceful, and mostly used for very important final drafts of very important assignments. One was lazy... Who had ever heard of a man falling more in love with a woman simply because she wrote different ways depending on her mood, or intent?

"I suppose, only... You could never _anyone._" Elda didn't even wait for him to promise he wouldn't; she exited quickly to fetch the pieces of paper.

Fiyero felt a little dizzy when he had them in his hands. There, in front of him, was a blend of Elphaba's two most common writing styles. She must have wanted it to be nice for her child, but not had the time to take her time. He scanned them, knowing they were from Elphaba, reading various sentences and practically _hearing_ Elphaba say them. But he couldn't bring himself to really read them. These pieces of her, these most intimate hopes, were too much of her heart for him to bear, and it would destroy him, to read her. "Who else has seen these?"

The question was so quiet, Elda had to think about the sounds she'd thought she'd heard to decide what he'd actually said. After a moment, she responded. "Nobody. I have seniority here, material like this isn't to be opened; it comes directly to me."

"You can't ever tell anyone that you've read them, that you've seen them, that they arrived, or that I've seen them. You must hide them, in a very secret, very safe place... I'd take them myself only I know I can't without saying why, and without taking her with me..."

Fae was his daughter. His flesh and blood, his love for Elphaba. That's what she was; they had made her together, on a night so full of emotion and revelations. He'd tasted and touched and held her, pouring his love for her out until he realized that it would never run dry.

His need for Elphaba was endless, his love for her was the same.

"Fae," he murmured, looking down at the baby. He had stopped himself from analyzing the baby too much, lest he begin to draw comparisons out of blind hope rather than common sense or evidence. But he could see everything that was Elphaba and everything that was him in the baby, now. In this girl, his daughter. His and Elphaba's daughter. "I'd need to be married to adopt her?"

"Yes, sir."

"I can't."

Elda knew why. It was clear that Fiyero wasn't happy in his life, and Glinda the Good was the main part of his life. "I understand."

"I can't get married, and I can't not adopt this baby." It seemed as though he was talking to himself, now. "Could I support her, for awhile? Sort of... semi-adopt her? And you could hold onto her, just for awhile? I'll support all of them, I'll contribute whatever amount you want to this place -"

"Fiyero," Elda's voice was heartbroken, and she felt enough pain for him to know the only way to get his attention was to use his name. It worked. He looked at her, his eyes alight with fear. "You've contributed a great deal to this orphanage, or have you forgotten?"

He had. That was the reason he and Glinda had come by in the first place; to hand over an oversized cheque. Glinda posed with the cheque, and actually handed it over, but the idea to donate, and the money behind it, had been Fiyero's. He hadn't known why. They'd donated to all five orphanages in the city, and he'd tried to see every single child. The children of the Baum Street Orphanage were the last stop. The nursery was on the top floor. Fae's crib was in the far corner.

He might have forgotten all other orphanages if he'd seen her first. Or, maybe, he wouldn't have made the effort to cross the room if he'd known he had four more trips like this ahead of him.

Fate?

it was possible. Everything to do with Elphaba seemed to echo with destiny.

"I'll contribute more, then," he shrugged. "At least to cover caring for her. Though it does seem unfair to the others..." He looked into her eyes. "Can it work? Can I... reserve her?"

"I'm sure you can, but I'm not sure how long it could last."

"I just need to work out some details," he explained. "Before I can adopt her. But I will."

"Are you sure Miss Glinda will want to adopt?"

He said nothing for a few moments. What could he say? 'Even if she doesn't want to, I'll make her by threatening to leave her'? 'She'd do anything to make me happy, and I'm going to take advantage of it'? 'She'd better do as I say, or I'll marry her, poison her, then play the grieving widower'? "I'll have to talk to her."

He handed the letters back to Elda, and made to leave. "You will take care of yourself, Master Fiyero," Elda said, not so much a request but a reminder. "Get some sleep, some fresh air, keep your head clear..."

"Of course," he said, faking a smile. "Why wouldn't I? I'm a Prince, I'm the hero of Oz." His voice was full of disdain, of sarcasm. He sighed. "You will hide those well, won't you?"

Her eyes dropped to the letters she was holding in her hands. "Yes, of course." She knew there was something powerful about the parchment. Fiyero was a Gale Forcer, and understood politics and secrets better than she could. If he said it was important to keep them secret, it was probably for reasons she'd never even dream of.

He made it around the corner of the building before throwing up. He was glad he never had the carriage driver wait; he felt like walking. His mind was fuzzy with all the things he had to think about. Fae was his daughter, and he'd have to be married to get her, but he couldn't marry Fae's mother, because she was an Enemy. He didn't want to marry Glinda, but had to to adopt the daughter he'd made with her best friend. He'd made a baby with Elphaba.

Oz.

He wanted to make a million more.

The memory of moving with Elphaba came back to him, as it had many times before, rapidly and forcefully. He felt himself aroused immediately, and knew the only way to get through the feeling (well, the most decent way, given that he was walking to streets of the Emerald City) was to simply breathe deep and keep walking. Her skin glowed in front of his mind's eye, her touch screamed along his flesh, and his lips buzzed with the feeling of being entwined with hers.

It was very possible that he could never have her like that again if he was married. Divorce... didn't happen. But she would have told him to choose Fae over her, he knew she would have. The choice would have to be made, as sickening as it was.

So, who could he have, his daughter, or her mother?


	6. Fae's First Birthday

"Happy birthday, baby Fae," Fiyero said. It was odd to him that he should be there, holding Fae, considering he didn't know about her for an entire year after he'd made her. And Elphaba was, of course, nowhere to be found. But her first letter had specified this day as Fae's birthday.

Twenty-one months without Elphaba had done strange things to him. It didn't matter that he'd gone almost twenty-one _years_ without her before he'd met her. Nearly two years had passed since he'd realized he loved her, and never in his life had he been tested this way. He had always been a man satiated instantly - if he wanted it, he got it. But Elphaba, she was so out of reach, and all he wanted was to hold her.

He'd begun to proceed with the adoption of Fae, hoping that he'd be given custody on his own. Thusfar, he'd made it through the necessary steps for adopting, including obtaining letters of reference, proof of employment, and all the citizenship and competency bullshit that got in the way of most of the people who tried to adopt. But he knew that, the closer he got to taking her home, the more he would be scrutinized for not marrying Glinda and adopting with her. At this point, they were focusing on his preliminary qualifications, as Elda had said they would.

When she'd said a man couldn't usually adopt on his own, it wasn't because they wouldn't let him _try_. It was because a single man never got through all the steps; most men didn't have the financial resources Fiyero had, and broke themselves and the bank clearing all necessary hurdles only to be rejected at the end for some arbitrary reason.

Of course, Prince Fiyero Tiggular, now the _Captain_ of the Gale Force, wasn't most men. He had status, wealth, respect and drive, and he was going to use those things as much as he had to.

"Fae," Fae repeated, giggling. When she'd started to pick up on words a couple months ago (_really_ pick up, not just mindlessly babble), Fiyero had had to decide what she should call him. And, not being able to bring himself to try to teach her to call him "Papa", he'd simply settled for talking to her about _her. _Not that she didn't have a bunch of words. Of course, she was smart, like her mother.

"Hello," one of the nurses said, entering. "How's little Fae doing?"

"She's well, I think," Fiyero smiled. "How are you?"

"I am well also," she said, smiling up at him shyly. She was a young woman, who, according to some of the older women, had a bit of a thing for him. He chuckled inwardly, recalling their thrill at gossiping. A couple years ago, he would have flirted shamelessly with this young woman, who was actually fairly attractive, simply because he could. Her blushing and giggling would have stroked his ego. How he loathed his former self. Elphaba had changed him, he knew. Instead, he simply smiled at her, which caused her to blush furiously and duck her head. "I just needed to check up on Terrus," she said, moving to a baby boy who had been a little feverish the past couple days.

"I think he's doing better," Fiyero said, studying the baby she cradled in her arms. "His temperature is down and he's not fussing as much." He realized he was basically doing her job for her. "Sorry... I can't help but pay attention to them all, sometimes."

"I think it's wonderful, the way you love children," she admitted. "Does, um, does Glinda like children?"

Glinda. Fiyero hoped he wasn't making a face like he'd smelled something gross. "From a distance," he murmured. "Until they cry, or burp, or need changing."

The girl giggled. "She'll get used to it, when it's hers. Or, well, when, you know..." she said, looking at Fae.

"Fae's mine," he said, "not Glinda's."

"But aren't you both adopting?"

"No. I'm trying to adopt her on my own."

"Why?"

Fiyero sighed, then shrugged. "Glinda and I aren't married."

"But you're _going_ to get married. You've got to want to marry her; she's so wonderful. And she'd never say no to _you_..."

Fiyero knew it wasn't her fault that she didn't understand. Nobody really did, aside from Elda, who was too dignified to say anything about it, directly. "We haven't talked about it."

The girl sensed that Fiyero was uncomfortable talking about this subject, so she changed it. "Well, you were right, he seems much better." Fiyero smiled at the baby as she set him down in his crib. "I'd best be off." She paused at the door. "I hope you get to adopt her, either way," she said.

"Thank you," he smiled.

Elda entered soon after. "How is she?"

"Beautiful," he said. "As always."

The two could have been twins, as far as Elda was concerned. Twins with different coloured eyes. And Fiyero certainly was one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen. She was content to gaze at him and the child for awhile, but then forced herself to leave, not only to afford him privacy, but because the possibility that he could lose the baby hurt her more than it was supposed to.

Fiyero looked down at Fae and fought another wave of the sadness that had been plaguing him recently. As time had gone on, more and more Gale Forcers had reported sightings of The Witch, but he had yet to come across her. And as more and more time passed without a word from her, he became increasingly paranoid and delusional as to why.

The thought had first struck him one night when Elda had said, "Whoever left this beautiful baby must have had a good reason to."

A good reason like being knocked up by her best friend's boyfriend while she was in the midst of fleeing the city after being declared a criminal by a man who she'd been aching to meet? And when he wrapped his mind around that, the guilt set in. Had he taken advantage of her, that night, when she'd been so shattered? She had wanted so desperately to meet the Wizard, she'd waited and hoped and worked for it. And when she had, he'd disappointed her - revealed himself as a fraud and, when she wouldn't do his evil bidding, turned against her. Fiyero had been surprised when Glinda had told him, he couldn't imagine how shocked Elphaba must have been.

So, there she was, not yet twenty, and declared an Enemy of the Wizard, of Oz. She'd been forced to flee, and stopped to gather some things, heartbroken with disappointment, with leaving her best (and only) friend, and realizing she could never come back.

And he'd kissed her, and held her, and showed her he loved her. It had felt so right at the time, like the only thing there was to do. But perhaps she didn't see it that way. Perhaps, when her emotions settled, she felt extremely taken advantage of. After all, she wasn't one to believe she could be loved. Her only choice was to believe he'd seen an opportunity to have some sex, and gone for it.

And then, he'd impregnated her. He hadn't meant to, though the memory of the most intense pleasure of his life was vivid enough to make him feel like his body was intent on claiming her, on making something out of love with her. But it didn't matter that it wasn't his intent, because it _was_ his fault. She'd have never initiated anything with him - probably because she didn't even want to! Sure, she'd said things about love at the time, but, once again, she was probably just rendered delusional and irrational but the events of the night.

It was ridiculous that Fiyero thought this way, but he'd never be convinced of that. In his mind, Elphaba probably hated him, which felt as bad to him as holding Fae felt good. He didn't think Fae had ended up in the Baum Street orphanage because of it, however. He knew that Elphaba's lifestyle wasn't suitable for raising a baby, and that the infant would be hunted as much as her mother if anyone were to ever know.

But that didn't make up for Elphaba's complete disappearance. Why hadn't she let him catch up with her even once? If she was nearby, sending letter to Fae, she _had_ to know that he had taken an interest in the baby. Didn't she have any opinions about that?

He sang a traditional birthday song to his daughter in Arjiki, and she cooed lightly and fell asleep. He kissed her forehead, and put her down, slipping quietly out of the nursery.

"Another letter," Elda said, handing it to him just outside the door. "It's brief, but..."

He read the words quickly, drinking them in.

_Your first birthday has come already - where has the past year gone? Somehow, looking back, it feels fast, though the time apart from you has been unbearably slow. I know you are being looked after; there are many wonderful people surrounding you._

_Fate and chance have strange interplay, young beauty. I refuse to believe we were fated to be parted; it was a mischance, one I hope to put right sooner rather than later. If not, I have faith that you will be taken in by somebody good, and fearless, and wise._

_Regardless of the events which separated us, know that you come from love and respect, that nobility and honour are in your blood, and that I think of you every moment of every day._

_Your Mother_

He sniffled, a little, feeling embarrassed. "This is a good one," he said, trying to sound idle.

"I believe she is smart, and strong," Elda commented, taking her time re-folding the letter and sliding it back into its envelope, to afford him a few moments to rub his eyes and take a deep breath. "This mother... I think she is _good_."

Fiyero thought to himself how nice it was to hear Elphaba described as such, even if the woman didn't know that she was applying that word to The Wicked Witch of the West. "Perhaps she just had a run of bad luck," Fiyero murmured. _A run-IN of bad luck, with the Wizard,_ he thought bitterly.

"Does that make you feel guilty, for adopting her?"

He wasn't sure. "A little," he said. "Not enough to not give her a home, if I can. While this woman clearly has all the intent in the world, if there are outside forces preventing her from coming back for Fae... I think my case is going well, though," he said. "I'm trying to stay positive about it."

Elda smiled at him, encouraged to hear that he was trying to stay positive. He would need to.


	7. Two Years Later:Glinda

_Two years today_, Glinda thought to herself, feeling depressified. _Two years ago today, Elphie fled the Wizard, DEFIED the Wizard... And I haven't seen her since._

Happiness seemed so odd to the once-clueless blonde, who had retained her beauty but not her mistaken impression that it meant anything to be beautiful. After all, look where it had gotten her. Adored by all of Oz because she sparkled. In a relationship that seemed destined to go nowhere because he'd wanted nothing more than a pretty face when they'd met... and now, she suspected, wanted more, but didn't have the heart to leave her.

She didn't often let herself dwell on her relationship with Fiyero. He was even more "distant and moodified" than he'd been in that time before she'd bemoaned his new attitude to Elphaba, on the platform before they went to the Emerald City. She'd give anything now for the Fiyero he'd been then; _that_ Fiyero was practically giddy compared to this dark and serious Fiyero. The worst part was that she didn't care - she loved him, anyway. And as long as he was near her, she'd cling to him. She had her ways - she'd been trying to manipulate marriage out of him for awhile, now.

It was very difficult to do without actually bringing it up, but she felt she was getting closer.

She loved him so blindly, so endlessly. She somehow suspected that her emotional capacity ended light years before that of someone such as Elphaba, but Glinda loved Fiyero with all that she had. And though she didn't think he was as dedicated to her as a husband should be to a wife, she wanted to be married to him.

She wanted everyone to know he had chosen her, and bonded himself to her. She wanted to be on his arm forever; how perfect they looked, how perfect they were together, on the outside.

The image of it appealed as greatly to Glinda as the love in it did. She supposed that was shallow...

When faced with her own inadequacies, Glinda couldn't help but turn her thoughts to her friend, the Wicked Witch, who was so different from she. She lacked the obvious beauty of Glinda, but had a million times the heart and integrity. But all of Oz hated her for her morals, and adored Glinda, despite her lack of them.

Glinda felt restless in the dark, cold night. It was particularly chilly for this time of year - perhaps the weather sensed the gloominess of this day, and changed itself accordingly. The people of Oz had hidden out in their houses, thinking that on this, the second anniversary of the Witch's affront to goodliness, she might strike in some vicious way. _As if Elphaba even kept track of the date_, Glinda thought. _She probably has no idea... She's probably carrying a family of Raccoons on her back through a flooded river right now, cursing the cold and the heavens and probably the Kumbric witch for pissing the river into existence_.

She wandered through the palace, into her bedroom, knowing she wouldn't find Fiyero there, waiting for her. He was never waiting for her. She could lead him places, he would follow her. But he never sought her out, never initiated their time together. Still, her heart panged every time she entered the room to find it empty, because in the back of her mind she knew that, were he not such a good man, Fiyero would have made it permanently empty long ago. She wasn't sure how long ago, and she didn't want to know.

She found him on a balcony, looking up at the night sky. A glass of brandy was next to him, on the thick, ornate concrete balustrade. "Fiyero?"

His head turned perhaps a centimetre in her direction. He barely reacted to her - it was as if his head had twitched, rather than him acknowledging her presence. He said nothing, he simply continued to look up at the sky.

Glinda shivered in the night air, and wondered how he could have his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up. "It's cold, Fiyero. Aren't you freezing?"

"I don't feel it," he shrugged.

Glinda looked at the glass of liquor and had an idea where the warmth came from. She wondered how many of those he had already consumed that day. "How long have you been out here?"

Fiyero shrugged. "I couldn't tell you." He seemed lost in thought, then, as if realizing his duty, looked at her. "Are you alright?"

If only he'd meant it. If only he'd looked into her eyes and seen the pain there, seen her love for him, and the yearning, and genuinely wanted to know. "Today is hard," she admitted. "It's been two years since..." He nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Maybe he was more in tune with her than she thought... "I miss her, Fiyero." His face was unreadable. "I don't know what to do without my friend."

"It's hard, to be without someone who means so much to you," he agreed.

"Is that how it felt to leave your mother and father, to leave the Vinkus?"

He nodded. "It's hard to say goodbye."

"At least we have each other," Glinda tried. "And we can remember Elphie together, as she was. Because we know the truth about her." He didn't move. "And, someday, when I can, I'll clear her name. The Wizard and Morrible are like Father Time and..." she paused, thinking. "Mother Time." Oz, how stupid she felt. "They'll die sooner or later," she continued on. "And I'll have Oz's trust, and they won't be spreading lies about her, and she can come back."

"You think that will work?" He looked dubious. "You think you can bring the Enemy of Oz back and just promise everyone she's nice and they'll listen?"

"I can be very convincifying," she reminded him. "We'll get her back, Fiyero. We will."

"She doesn't belong to us," Fiyero said, staring at the moon. "She belongs to another."

Glinda stared at him. Did he know something she didn't? Had he heard of some lover? "Who? Who does Elphie belong to?"

He sighed, almost inaudibly. "She belongs to the twilight and mist."


	8. Two Years Later:Fiyero

_Two years today_, Fiyero thought. _Two endless years ago, I lost her. I admitted to myself that I loved her, I pursued her, I found her, I made love to her, and then she was gone into the night._

Then he got up.

Waking up thinking about the lost love of his life wasn't Fiyero's favourite way to start the day, but he was used to it, by now. He thought to himself that he wouldn't go see Fae today, that he wouldn't survive looking at her on this day, and instantly felt like his life was empty.

The day passed slowly. It was a wretched day, weather-wise, and there was little for the Gale Force to do, people being holed-up in their homes, frightened that Elphaba would attack them because it was two years ago she'd defied the Wizard. The Gale Force had been called out in numbers, because the Wizard was just as stupid as the people he ruled, and they'd stood around smoking cigars, drinking, and trading vulgar jokes and stories until it was clear that nothing was going to happen that day.

Fiyero had dismissed his men, knowing full well that nobody was in any danger, anyway, and gone "home" to the Palace in search of a stiff drink. He'd found many.

Wandering the halls of the wing he shared with Glinda, Fiyero looked out the large windows at the tinge of green that illuminated everything in the city, and thought, against his will, of that night with Elphaba. He had thought of her, often, though he rarely let himself think of her as intensely as he wanted to. It was when he was asleep or drunk, and, therefore, not as much in control of his thoughts and actions as usual, that he sank into visions of her.

Tonight was no different. As he staggered along the runner of thick carpet down one of the tediously overblown and oversized hallways he saw every day, he remembered how it had felt to take her in his mouth, in his hands. To move on top of her, inside of her, to watch her while he made love to her.

"Yero," he heard her sigh, again, in his head. "Love me."

"I do," he whispered, out loud. He shook his head, but was unable to clear it. His thoughts were racing now, skimming the memory of being with her and hurtling straight toward new fantasies, desires he had for her based upon nothing they'd done that night.

He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, feeling heat for her like a million furnaces under his skin, and looked around frantically for a source of fresh air, to help him clear his head. The balcony. He spotted the large glass French doors, and made a break for them, taking his brandy with him.

He put his drink down and gasped for breath, waiting for the air to cool him, hoping the weather could beat out the desires of his flesh.

He stared at the sky.

Fiyero spent more time than he really realized staring at the night sky. The blackness of it allowed him to feel like Elphaba might be just out of sight, and the rare movements above (of birds and other flying creatures, no doubt) could be her, they could be... He knew it was stupid, to tilt his head back and gaze skyward, looking for black on black, but it gave him hope, or reassured him, or felt bitingly painful enough to keep him awake.

"Fiyero?"

He turned his head instinctively toward the sound. She'd found him. She always did. He said nothing, he simply continued to look up at the sky.

"It's cold, Fiyero. Aren't you freezing?"

"I don't feel it," he shrugged. He didn't feel it. He didn't feel much of anything, anymore, beyond the sick dull ache of being Faba-less. What was cold, anyway? He was numb to the world outside Fae, Elphaba, and the fantasy life in his head.

"How long have you been out here?"

Fiyero shrugged. "I couldn't tell you." He couldn't recall when he'd wandered out and, as he had so many nights, simply lost himself staring up at the sky. He'd been doing it for two years... Why was Glinda here? She probably wanted something. "Are you alright?"

"Today is hard," she admitted. "It's been two years since..." He nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about. It was strange to him that she'd felt the need to say the part about the two years. Didn't she know that he knew? "I miss her, Fiyero." He thought to himself that he missed Elphaba more than Glinda ever could, then realized that that was a selfish thing to think. Elphaba had been Glinda's most true friend, the only friend of substance Glinda had ever had. "I don't know what to do without my friend."

"It's hard, to be without someone who means so much to you," he agreed, remembering the feeling of just being near to Elphaba, and trying not to remember the rest of it.

"Is that how it felt to leave your mother and father, to leave the Vinkus?"

He nodded, wondering how dense Glinda really was. "It's hard to say goodbye." He remembered that moment, when Elphaba had slipped out the window.

"At least we have each other," Glinda tried. "And we can remember Elphie together, as she was. Because we know the truth about her." He stayed still, certain that the slightest movement on his part would reveal how much truth her knew about her. "And, someday, when I can, I'll clear her name. The Wizard and Morrible are like Father Time and..." she paused, thinking. "Mother Time." Oz, how stupid she could be. "They'll die sooner or later," she continued on. "And I'll have Oz's trust, and they won't be spreading lies about her, and she can come back."

"You think that will work?" He doubted it would. Not only did the people of Oz love to hate Elphaba, not only that, but... It would simply be too good to be true to be able to have her around once more. "You think you can bring the Enemy of Oz back and just promise everyone she's nice and they'll listen?"

"I can be very convincifying," she reminded him. Boy, did he know. "We'll get her back, Fiyero. We will."

"She doesn't belong to us," Fiyero said, staring at the moon. "She belongs to another."

Glinda stared at him, not sensing the jealousy behind his words, the anguish at their truth. "Who? Who does Elphie belong to?"

He sighed, almost inaudibly. Elphaba was mystical, epic, and so far above them in her radiance. They would never be worthy of her. _He_ would never be worthy of her. "She belongs to the twilight and mist."


	9. Thank Goodness

**AN: Alright, I feel like this is filler, but it's necessary, and I tried to make it...decent.**

"An engagement is enough."

The words should have sent Fiyero's heart soaring, but they did not. He didn't want to marry Glinda, and he didn't want to lie to her. He could propose marriage, get Fae, and then abandon the Good Witch of the North. He could do that. It would be awful of him, but he could, technically, betray her that way, if he so chose.

But how could he?

He regretted his heart. It made him love Elphaba, and Fae, and it made him feel willing to do anything to keep them. Adversely, it restricted him from hurting Glinda, which is what he'd have to do to get his heart's desires.

He thought to himself that it might be nice to be heartless.

"As long as I'm engaged, it's enough," he repeated, making sure he'd heard correctly.

"It's only because of your status, I think," Elda said, raising her eyebrows slightly at the implications of what Fiyero's status could let him get away with. "But as long as you're engaged, you can adopt Fae. You've spent enough time with her, over so many months, that they'll make an exception for you, just to speed things along."

"How will they know?"

"Everyone will know," Elda smirked. "They'll probably know before _you_ do." They both chuckled. "Isn't it great news? You don't seem..." Elda paused. "It will put her in your home, Fiyero. It's not ideal, but it's not the worst possible scenario either."

Fiyero nodded. "No, it's... good news." _So few things proclaimed as good news are actually good news these days_, he thought to himself. "What would you do?"

"I'd propose to my girlfriend of three years, and take my daughter home," Elda said, without pause. Little Fae was over two now - he'd been in the process of adopting her for more than a year. It always amazed Elda how long it really did take to adopt a child, even for Fiyero, for whom rules could be bent.

"I know," he said. "I know it's what I should do. It's best for Fae." He sighed, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache, and decided to quickly visit his usual treatment for stress. "I'll just see her quickly," he said, aware that Glinda was throwing some sort of ball that evening. Elda nodded, and Fiyero climbed the stairs up to the toddler's nursery.

The money Fiyero and Glinda had donated had been put to good use in the past couple years, allowing for renovations of the rooms inside the building. Toddlers, who'd previously been spaced between the nursery and the older childrens' bunks, now had their own nursery, with larger cribs. Fae's was in the far corner, again, by a window, so she could look at the moon. She loved to look at the night sky.

Perhaps she had learned that from him.

"Fae," he murmured, entering.

"Papa," she replied, grinning. So many nurses had talked to her about him, and called him her papa, that she'd sort of picked up on it and run with it. Fiyero couldn't correct her the first time she said it, or the second, or the third... It simply felt too right. "Hi."

"I don't have long," he said. "But I wanted to say hello, and give you a kiss goodnight, and tell you sweet dreams." He leaned in and kissed her forehead, brushing some of the dark hair out of his way. "I love you," he said, knowing that marrying Glinda was the only option.

"Love you," she smiled.

He wanted to break something. It was only fair, considering the state of his heart. Elphaba wasn't coming back. He'd waited, he'd waited even to start adopting... The adoption had taken months and months, and all that time, he'd hoped that, by the time he knew where he stood, she'd be back in his life, her reputation restored, and he could marry her and adopt their child. He'd waited as long as he could, and now he had to propose to Glinda, so he could take his daughter, the daughter he'd made with Elphaba, home.

As he left the building, he practiced his stupid proposal speech. _Glinda, I made love to Elphaba a few years ago. It was amazing, and beautiful, and blissful. Much better than anything we ever have. And I impregnated her. And I somehow managed to find our daughter, and I have to be at least engaged to adopt her. So, marry me. So we can raise my illegitimate child together._ He sighed. _That won't do._

He heard the hoopla before he saw it. When he arrived at the entrance to one of Glinda's many platforms, he found her waiting, bursting with nerves and excitement. "Fiyero, you're late," she scolded, though not angrily. Her smile was so wide, it made him feel awful. What could he say? That he'd lost track of time while visiting his daughter?

"Sorry," he murmured, looking at how she sparkled, and forcing himself to remember how he'd felt when he first fell for her. "I lost track of time..." He'd have to watch that, when they were married. He wasn't sure when he was going to ask her, but it would have to be soon.

They went out to greet the Ozians, and Glinda made one of her usual speeches. "Fellow Ozians, as terrifying as terror is, let us put aside our panic for this one day... and celebrate!" Fiyero thought to himself that it was easy for Glinda to suggest such a thing - she knew she wasn't in any real danger.

Fiyero's skin crawled being so near to Morrible, who seemed to be everywhere he was these days. As her voice interrupted the celebrating like some rich, poisonous syrup, Fiyero fought to keep his disgust off his face. "And thank goodness for you, Glinda, and your handsome swain, our captain of the guard." Loathing. Unadulterated loathing. But the wretch turned to him, now, and he had to find a way not to look murderous. "Now you've been at the forefront of the hunt for the Wicked Witch, haven't you?"

"Yes, but I don't like to think of her as a Wicked Witch - " Fiyero started.

Sensing that this was going where it had so many times before, Morrible cut him off. "Captain, how does it feel?"

"Frustrating... but I became captain of the guard to find her, and I will keep searching!" He would. Even if he was married, he would. Forever.

"No, being engaged!"

"Congratulotions," the Ozians chorused.

Fiyero turned to Glinda, confused. "This is an engagement party?"

"Surprised?" How many words, how many silent hopes were behind that word? Of course he was. She'd been hinting at marriage for years and he'd never said a single word about it. She knew why, she had to. She didn't know all of it, but she knew that it wasn't in his plans. Even in complete denial about their status, it was clear he wasn't steering it toward Happily Ever After.

"Yes," was all he could say.

"Good, we hoped you'd be... the Wizard and I!" Glinda continued, but he heard nothing.

"And Glinda, dear, we're happy for you! As Press Secretary, I have striven to ensure that all of Oz knows the story of your braverism!" Here she went again... the lies. That it was Glinda the Wizard had wanted, not Elphaba.

"That's not how you described it to me," Fiyero reminded her, for the millionth time.

"Oh no, not exactly, but..." she dropped her voice to a whisper. "We'll talk about it later." Her face was plastered with that ridiculous smile, and she watched the crowd, not him.

It was probably good that she wasn't looking at him, because as Morrible continued to lie, and the rumours about Elphaba were shouted by the crowd, he felt more and more tense, more and more angry. They whirled in his head, their vicious distortion permeating his brain. But one lie came to him loud and clear: "I hear her soul is so unclean, pure water can melt her!"

"What?!"

"MELT HER! PLEASE SOMEBODY GO AND MELT HER!"

"Do you hear that?" Fiyero turned in Glinda, the only person he could let his anger out on. "Water will melt her? People are so empty-headed they'll believe anything!"

"Excuse me just a tick-tock," Glinda said, in case anyone in the crowd was listening. She led Fiyero to the side, but he started to speak before she could even open her mouth.

"I can't just stand here grinning pretending to go along with all of this!" Was he talking about the stupid lies of the people or their sham relationship? He couldn't be sure.

"Do you think I like to hear them say those awful things about her? I hate it!"

"Then what are we doing here? Let's go, let's get out of here," he suggested, urgently. In private, he could be morose.

"We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits," Glinda implored.

"You can't leave because you can't resist this," Fiyero spat. "And that is the truth."

"Maybe I can't. Is that so wrong? Who could?"

Her words felt like fire. "You know who could. Who has."

Glinda softened. "Fiyero, I miss her too, but we can't just stop living. No one has searched harder for her than you. But don't you see? She doesn't want to be found. We have to face it."

Fiyero had been trying to face that fact for years. He'd thought it to himself over and over, and convinced himself that she didn't want to see him, even though he wanted her to miss him more than anything else. "You're right. I'm sorry, you're right. And if it's going to make you happy, of course I'll marry you."

There it was. The promise. The words that sealed Fae's fate. It really couldn't have gone better - he didn't have to think of a proposal. Glinda has proposed to herself.

She faltered. "But it'll make you happy too, right?"

"You know me," he sighed. "I'm always happy."

He heard her call after him as he exited, but he didn't even pause, knowing where he was going, and why.

The ink on the paper dried quickly. Elda had organized the documents barely a minute after Fiyero had left, having heard the news of his engagement even before he did.

**AN: I also don't like that it all happens in one day... But what can I do? I want to get on with things!**


	10. As Long as You're Mine

**Dedicated to fermataoso, who reviews everything I write, and who has wanted this for over a month.**

"No... We have nothing in common. I am nothing like you, and I never will be, and I will fight you until the day I die!!!" The Wizard's offer of fame, of forgiveness, had been shattered when Elphaba had pulled back the sheet and realized that Dr. Dillamond had lost all powers of speech. The Wizard, knowing he had no power, and especially not compared to Elphaba, ran back toward the giant head he used to address his subjects with as the former Goat ran out into the hall.

"Guards, guards," the Wizard cried, looking to Elphaba as feeble and useless as ever. But her disdain at his weakness was short-lived, as she felt her legs go to mush at the entrance of Fiyero and a few other Gale Forcers.

"Halt," one of the guards barked, though to who, it was unclear.

"Are you alright, your Ozness?" Fiyero wasn't even looking at her.

"Fiyero," Elphaba said, her voice breaking in her throat at his name, one she'd scarcely uttered in the years away from him.

"I don't believe it..." His eyes found her, and she discovered that he was unreadable. But she had cause to hope...

"Oh , Fiyero, thank Oz. I thought you were -"

"Silence, witch!"

How two words could feel so much like being cut open from sternum to stomach she had no idea, but they did. She could only gape at him, thoughts racing, as the guards edged away from her, glanced nervously at her, but still tried to sound authoritative.

"There's a Goat on the lam, sir," one guard to said to Fiyero.

"Never mind all that. Fetch me some... some water."

"Water, sir?"

"You heard me," Fiyero barked. "As much as you can carry."

"Yes, sir!"

All the guards exited; most of them were confused, some of them remembered the rumours about water melting the Wicked Witch.

"Fiyero..."

"I said silence!" Fiyero was drowning, drowning in joy, fear, lust, and, most of all, heart wrenching love, needed to put up a front, and needed a moment to think. He didn't have long, however. The Wizard appeared from inside his giant metal head, the oversized mask he wore.

"No! No," he cried, emerging. Was he trying to save Elphaba, or himself?

"Don't make a sound, your Ozness, unless you want all your guests to know the truth about the Wonderful Wizard of Oz... Elphaba, I'll find Doctor Dillamond later, now get out of here."

How was he telling her to run? In all the time he'd dreamed of her, waited to be near her again, he'd never once thought his suggestion would be to run, at least, not without him.

She was clearly relieved. "Fiyero, you frightened me. I thought, I thought you might have changed."

"I have... changed." He was miserable now, aged by the loss of her, and worn out waiting and searching for her. Hearing his name on her lips felt like she was bewitching him, like magnets under his skin were pulling him toward her.

It couldn't have been better timing, then, for Glinda to enter the room. "What's going on... Elphie? Oh, thank Oz you're alive! Only you shouldn't have come. If anyone discoverates you..."

No, he couldn't lose her again. He couldn't send her on her way and stay and lie to Glinda for... who knew how long? "Glinda, you'd better go."

"Fiyero," Glinda looked confused. "What are you...?"

"Please, just go back to the ball," Fiyero said, feeling tired.

Glinda knew she would not win against Fiyero. She never really won, she only got her way because he refused to fight her. In the case when he actually outright told her to do something, and she fought it, and he repeated himself, she knew he would get his way, no matter what. So she turned to the situation she felt she _could_ handle. "Your Ozness, he means no disrespectation. Please understand! You see, we all went to school together..."

Fiyero saw that Elphaba was turning to go, and it felt like being gutted. "Elphaba!"

The enemy name. Nobody was to call her by that. But, then, nobody was supposed to be moving across the room as if to follow her, either. "Fiyero, have you misplaced your mind? What are you doing?"

It was now or never. Fiyero stood near to Elphaba, and turned to look at Glinda, whose dreams were about to come crashing down. "I'm going with her."

"What? What are you saying?" Elphaba stared elsewhere, unsure of how to feel. Oh, how bitter, to gain the love of your life at the expense of your friend. And would they have had problems if it hadn't been for her? "You mean all this time... the two of you... behind my back...?"

That snapped Elphaba back to attention. "No, Glinda it wasn't like that!" It was only once, after all... a stupid mistake.

"Actually, it was," Fiyero said, thinking back to the years of being in love with her. Realizing how his sentence sounded, he tacked on, "but it wasn't... Elphaba, let's go... let's go!"

His hand in hers, they ran, both trying to ignore Glinda's betrayal and her words, flung after them like a curse: "Fine, go! You deserve each other..."

The twists and turns of the palace were familiar to Fiyero, and he led her with ease, with aid of a lantern, until they emerged outside the palace walls, near the back gardens. It was only then that he paused, pulling her into his arms and, gasping for breath, tried not to cry. "Where have you been?"

"Fiyero, we don't have time -"

"Don't tell me we don't have time," he said. "You've been away for years, don't tell me we don't have time to hold each other."

"We'll have time," she promised, squeezing him. "Later."

He looked into her eyes, looking melted and like he'd never looked at her before. "Elphaba..." He kissed her, softly, and it took all her will to place her broom between them.

"Hop on," she said, wishing he could push her against a nearby wall and explore her. He obliged, though he didn't look thrilled about it, and they disappeared into the night, toward the Great Gillikin Forest. As they flew, she decided to get the conversation they had to have out of the way. "So, I was... I saw you and... At the Baum Street Orphanage."

Fiyero held her tighter around the waist. "I named her Fae," he said in her ear. "I don't know if you managed to catch that."

"How did you manage to find her?"

"Pure dumb luck," he said. "And it wasn't until I saw the letters that I began to think..." It occurred to him at that moment that there was still a chance he was wrong about Fae, and he was afraid to continue.

"That she was ours?"

Fiyero held her tighter. "She is, then?"

Elphaba leaned back into him and slowed the broom. "She is." Both thought they might cry, and were glad they couldn't be seen by the other. "Where is she?"

"Somewhere safe," he said, hoping his voice didn't reveal his worry that she wasn't all that safe.

Climbing off the broom, Fiyero took Elphaba's hand and led her to a more secluded area. He took off his coat and put it down on the ground, then pulled her tentatively into his arms, sinking down to his knees. His hands trembled around her waist and up her back, then down around the front and up into her hair. He kissed her gently, hesitantly, until she pulled away.

She was going to ask why he was being so cautious, until she saw the fear in his eyes. "What you so afraid of?"

"I want nothing more than to be with you, but I don't know how you feel. Elphaba, you've been gone so long..."

She couldn't think of a response, so she kissed him. "Don't be gentle with me, I need to feel it," she said. "Kiss me too hard, hold me too hard, I want to really feel it. I can't... It's hard to believe you've come with me, please, help me believe..."

"How could you not believe?" His question was followed by a deep kiss. He explored her as he had that night, but with more urgency - they didn't have long, and knew they had to make every last moment last. He promised, she promised, and then, they began to remove each other's clothing.

"Elphaba," he whispered. "I've missed you..." Pushing all hair from her face, he kissed her, kissed every inch of her face, then began to work down her neck. "Didn't you miss me? I looked everywhere for you, and you never came... You never came."

"Fiyero -" her breath caught in her throat as he slipped her dress off and went to work on her neck. "Of course I missed you..."

"Then where were you?"

"Working," she gasped. "Leaving you to an easier life, with Glinda, though that's all shot to hell, now, I suppose..."

"I was never really with Glinda," he muttered. "You said to stay with her, so I did, for you."

She pulled away. "You can't have stayed just for me," she pointed out. "That's absurd."

"What else would I have done? Ended things with her, broken her heart in the public eye and led the people of Oz to hate me? Then what, have to resign from the Gale Force? How would I have found you, then?" She had no response. "What was the difference, Elphaba? If I couldn't be with you, what was the difference? I was dead inside, anyway."

Elphaba had felt that way, too, but by necessity. The Wicked Witch of the West didn't _have_ a daughter. She _couldn't_. She didn't have friends like Glinda, she didn't have lovers at all, least of all a lover like Fiyero. She was Alone, save her broom, her hat and her Grimmerie. It made no difference, if she couldn't have her baby and her baby's father.

Her hands slipped off his shirt - had she been unbuttoning it? "Well?" She looked up at him. Oh, he was waiting for an answer.

"I suppose... you did what was best," she conceded. "I'm sorry..." She took his earlobe in her teeth gently, and, through them, murmured, "I'm sorry it took so long for us to see each other again."

"I'm going to do more than see you," he moaned, encouraging her to explore him with her hands. They massaged over his shoulders and around his waist, then up his back as she pulled their bodies close together. Her hands found the waist of his pants and undid them urgently, and he dropped back, pulling her onto his lap.

His hands massaged up her legs and took her hips firmly in hand as she leaned over to kiss him. Sliding his hands up, he tried to push her dress off. "Fiyero," she gasped, sitting up. "I don't..."

"I've already seen you, remember? You're beautiful." He sat up to kiss her neck and eased her dress over her head. Met with her undergarments, he chuckled. "So many layers," he complained, eyes alight with mischief. He paused, remembering the guilt he'd felt the last time they'd done this, wondering if she'd really wanted it. "If you're not comfortable..."

"No," she said, realizing she was being foolish. "No, Fiyero, I -" she pulled the rest of her clothing off, he assisting with the final item, and he wriggled out of his pants.

"You are..." he shook his head, finding himself wordless as he took in the sight of her long hair twirling around her shoulders and down to her waist. She glowed, and he wanted to get caught in the light. "You are radiant," he said, resuming work on her neck until she arched toward him, giving him greater purchase to the rest of her body.

"Fiyero," she moaned.

He grunted, spurred on by the sound of his name on her lips. He wanted to hear her scream it, he wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything. The years apart had done strange things to him. When they'd been together before, he'd been a boy, barely twenty, and foolish. He'd grown up, though he realized he was still young, after all. And she even younger. As far as he knew, she'd been innocent until that night in the Emerald City... Had she been with others since then? She seemed more worldly, she got over her insecurities faster, but perhaps that was just age.

"More, please," she gasped, as his hands traveled from her breasts (though his mouth never strayed from there) down the front of her. She was less inhibited, he realized. She didn't even flinch; she was completely in the moment.

Or perhaps that was just desire? Years apart, as lonely for her as they'd been for him?

He certainly enjoyed feeling desired. After awhile, she pushed him back and leaned to explore his chest with her mouth, reciprocating. Her hot kisses on his chest and down his stomach stole his breath, and he felt insane wanting her to continue south with that tongue while also wanting it entwined with his as their hips aligned. He didn't have to choose, however, as she stayed down where she was, exploring and fondling, prodding and massaging. His hands found the back of her head and buried themselves in her hair as he moaned.

But he didn't want satisfaction yet. He was content to let her arouse him, but he wanted to turn that arousal back on her, and so he did, taking her face in his hands and angling it toward him as he sat up. She paused, and climbed back onto his lap as he tugged her toward him, instantly rewarded as his mouth went to work on her neck.

Fiyero felt as though he could continue on her neck forever, and as though if he had to spend one more moment not connected to her, he'd perish. As if reading his thoughts, she moved so that she was braced just above him, and, at the urging of his hands on her hips, slid herself down.

Both moaned, and paused where they were, savouring the feeling of being part of one another. After breathless, open-mouthed kisses and the soft caress of hands on necks, cheeks, waists and backs, they found a rhythm instantly.

Fiyero was in love with being able to see her as they moved. Her head fell back almost instantly, and he clamped one hand onto her waist to keep a handle on things, to give himself the idea of control, and gave the other hand free reign over her, sliding an open palm up her stomach before allowing it to settling on her breast for awhile, teasing it in rhythm to their movement. As her breathing got away from her, he took pity and slid his hand up to stroke the side of her face, then pulled her close and flipped them, so that, rather than sitting together, he was on top of her.

She moaned at the change, one achieved without breaking apart, and smiled a sensual smile of lust and triumph. This was so good, it was almost too much ot bear. As he continued to thrust, and she continued to meet him, she lost herself in the feeling of being tended to, being touched, being loved. She felt herself tightening, the heavy heat low in her stealing her breath, and was only brought back to reality by Fiyero, who had taken a moment to remember the last time they'd been together and subsequently started to panic.

The last time they'd been together... He loved baby Fae, but that can't have been easy for Elphaba. And they weren't safe, now, either. "Elphaba," he panted in her ear, hating himself. "I have to... I have to stop."

"What? Why?"

"If I finish... what if you get pregnant again?"

Elphaba felt like they'd been in a dark, cozy room of lust, and suddenly, someone had flicked on a blinding light and turned down the heat. She took a moment to process his question, then answered. "Then I get pregnant," she whispered, kissing him.

"Elphie, I'm close," he groaned, though he hadn't stopped.

"Then finish," she whispered in his ear. "I want you to." He flipped them again, and she sat up, looking triumphant once more, and he anchored her hips and did all the work, which was good, because every bone in her body seemed to turn to jelly. "Fiyero..." He felt her come, heard her, watched her, and realized what living was all about. It was totally and completely about Elphaba, and about Fae, and the future. Future children, future nights of passion. It was about the past, present and the infinity of tomorrow all coming together in one moment, a moment of being truly alive. He knew this and more as she climaxed.

He had forgotten.

She took him with her.


	11. Finale

He hated that he couldn't hold her. Hated that, after years away from her, he'd finally managed to get his arms around her and hold her close and be with her, _really be with her_, and now she was gone once more.

He understood hearing something in the wind - he'd heard her dozens of times, or thought he had. But he'd eventually given up pursuing the sounds... Elphaba, however, was certain that her sister was in danger. He hoped for everyone's sake that she was wrong.

Fiyero left soon after Elphaba had fled the Great Gilllikin Forest, knowing it would take him twice as long on foot as it would take her by broom. The speed of her travel did not aid her, however, as she arrived too late to help her sister. She wasn't late enough to find the scene cleared, though, and, unable to hold back her fury, she appeared in a cloud of awful orange smoke to fume and threaten, barely even realizing that Glinda was there with the girl, the driver of the house that had crushed her sister.

As Elphaba was putting on a show for the people of Munchkinland, Fiyero was meeting with Elda in the shadows of the Baum Street Orphanage. The back alleyway was ideal for a rendezvous such as this, and Fiyero didn't have much time. "Fiyero," Elda said, her face and voice displaying her worry. "I heard... I heard you'd been abducted by the Wicked Witch."

Fiyero took a deep breath, knowing that it was too risky to come clean, despite his desire to, and even though his trust in Elda was second only to his trust in Elphaba. "Rumours," he said dismissively. "I need to talk to you about something top secret, something that will save my life and Fae's."

Elda had learned over the past years that Fiyero was a man of his word, in more ways than one. If he promised something, he would deliver. And if he said a life was on the line, it was not an exaggeration.

As Fiyero whispered heatedly to Elda, Elphaba disappeared from the scene of her sister's death, watching in grim defeat as they celebrated, and told the girl, Dorothy, where to go. As soon as they were gone, Elphaba emerged, had a fight with Glinda, and was captured, only to be saved by Fiyero, who barely got there in time.

Traded. His life for hers. What was the point of living if...?

The notion of losing Fiyero broke Elphaba in a way that felt very much like having every vein and artery ripped out of her body. In a panic, a blind panic, she ranted and raved, cast the only spell she could find, despite not being sure what she was reading.

But, of course, Elphaba was a deeply powerful woman - Fiyero knew it, and trusted it. She barely believed it most of the time, knowing that the spells she cast usually turned on whoever she'd tried to help. When Fiyero appeared at the trapdoor in Kiamo Ko, now a man of straw, relief and guilt waged a war in her heart that she desperately hoped didn't show on her face.

_...becauseIknewyou,Ihavebeenchanged..._

Just outside of Oz, an older woman with a kind face met a green witch and a scarecrow. "Lovely day for a walk, isn't it," Fiyero pointed out.

"It depends on how long you plan on walking," the woman replied, though she was clearly taken aback.

"I plan on walking however long the good weather holds," Fiyero shrugged.

Elda peered at him, glanced at Elphaba's bowed head, and couldn't decide if it was the light that made her look green. "Fiyero, is that really you?"

"I'd say 'In the flesh'... But yes, it's me. I know there's a lot you're probably wondering about right now," he said, his eyes darting toward Elphaba against his will. "But I promise I haven't deceived you. Well, I may have kept a secret from you, but it was for the greater good."

"What secret was that?"

"The Wicked Witch of the West never existed."

Elphaba's head shot up, and she and Elda both stared at Fiyero in shock. "What do you mean?"

"The woman, Elphaba, who everyone knew as the Witch, she's real," Fiyero explained. "But she's not wicked, and never was. She fought the Wizard and his Press Secretary, Madame Morrible, because _they_ were corrupt. And they branded her the Enemy of Oz because she wouldn't help them." He took a deep breath. "She was Glinda the Good's best friend, and the love of my life."

"I'm still both of those things, hopefully," Elphaba muttered.

"I wasn't sure where you were at with Galinda," Fiyero grumbled, whining only slightly. How easily he reverted to his youth when he was with her.

"It's _Glinda_," Elphaba reminded him. "The _Ga_ is silent."

Both smiled. Fiyero hadn't even realized he'd called his former fiancée by her Shiz-era name. "In any case," he said, turning back to Elda. "I assure you you'll return to the Emerald City to find a lot of changes afoot. Trust them - Glinda knows what she's doing."

Elda found that Fiyero's eyes were still the same, and that she believed him. But something was still irking her... She took a step toward Elphaba, and gently took her face in hand, tilting it up so that she had a better view of the green woman. "Why, you're just a child," she gasped.

"Twenty-two," Fiyero nodded. "And she was much younger when all this started."

Elda went to her cart, soon returning with Fae, and, unsure of Fiyero's strength, handed her to Elphaba. "I always thought she looked like you, Fiyero, but now I'm not so sure."

Elphaba, holding her daughter in her arms for the first time in years, couldn't help but choke out a strangled little cry at the sensation of it. Fae just looked up at her, big brown eyes matching matching her mother's in both colour and intensity. Fae seemed content on Elphaba's hip, though she'd never met the woman. Fiyero didn't look like Fiyero anymore, but somehow, the young child didn't cry or fuss. "Hello," Elphaba finally managed to choke out.

"Hello," Fae smiled.

"I'd best be going," Elda said, hugging Fiyero quickly. "I am glad she is able to be with you. It's best this way, considering everything."

"Thank you so much, Elda," Fiyero smiled.

Elphaba fixed her gaze on the woman, that gaze she had which held all the gravity in the world. She'd raised Fae, and befriended Fiyero, and, now, brought the child to them and handed her over, believing that Elphaba wasn't evil. "Thank you, for everything."

Elda smiled, sensing the significance of the young woman's sincere thanks, and turned to be on her way. "We'll find a way to write," Fiyero called after her."

"You're damn right you will, Fiyero Tiggular!"

Fiyero's "ha!" was shocked, Elphaba's cackle was joyous, and baby Fae, not such a baby anymore, giggled. "Damn," she repeated, pleased with herself.

Fiyero's eyes went wide at it, and Elphaba smirked. "It's a better first word than mine," she shrugged.

"What was that?"

"Horrors," Elphaba revealed. "Yours?"

"Cake."

Elphaba laughed, then fixed her gaze back on her daughter, overwhelmed. "I can't believe all of this came together. When you first told me we'd be meeting someone, I honestly didn't know if I should let myself believe we'd actually get her back."

"Well we did," Fiyero smiled, reaching out to brush some hair off Fae's face.

Elphaba paused. "What would have happened if we hadn't survived?"

"Glinda would have found out the hard way..."

Elphaba raised her eyebrows at him. "That would have been awful," she cried.

"What other choice would we have had? She had to be with someone who would love her, love us enough to tell her that her parents weren't a Wicked Witch and a Traitor of Oz."

Elphaba nodded. "I understand."

Fiyero looked down at the girl in Elphaba's arms. "I wanted to give you more of these," he murmured, his voice trembling.

"Well, there might be at least one more on the way," Elphaba tried.

He shook his head. "You deserve... If I can't give you a family, I..." Fiyero had never felt like more of a man than when he'd realized he'd made Fae, but he wasn't expecting to feel like less of a man if he couldn't make more. Here it was, though, the feeling that Elphaba was missing out on so much more than was fair.

"What are you talking about, Fiyero?" She had made him the way he was, what did he think she was going to complain about?

"If you want to be with someone who -"

"Don't even think it," she interrupted. "What would be the point in having a bunch of children if they weren't yours?" She waited for a response. "Well?"

He leaned to her, bracing his forehead against hers. He couldn't feel her, but he knew he was touching her because his head could go no further. He longed to caress her skin, to enjoy the smooth heat of it under his fingertips. But Elphaba's spell, which guarded him against pain, guarded him from most feeling, and so he couldn't really touch her. "I love you," he murmured.

"I'll find a way to change you back," she promised.

That night, settled into a cave, with a basic meal conjured up, and Fae sleeping in a small enclave out of view, Elphaba stood in front of Fiyero, hands on his chest, mind still racing. "Are we sure we can trust Elda not to say anything?"

"Yes," Fiyero nodded. "And even if she did, she doesn't know where we're going. _And_," he added. "She'd be tried as an enemy, for aiding us."

"We're safe," she whispered, though it was unclear if she was trying to reassure herself, or him, or if she was just saying it. Eyes closed, she pulled away from him, just a few inches, and prepared herself to jump off a very high cliff with not a broom in sight. "Fiyero, I lo-" she froze, shocked. She'd opened her eyes to tell him only to discover...

"What? Elphie, what is it?"

Impassioned, she leaned up to kiss him fiercely. He kissed her back, eager to kiss, forgetting that he wouldn't be able to feel it. Eventually, after a few moments of savouring her taste, the softness of her lips, the way their tongues met, he realized that, though he shouldn't have been able to feel any of it, he could. He pulled away and pulled the glove off the hand that had made its way to her face. Flesh and bone. He pulled off the other glove. The same.

He put his warm hands on his face, ran them down his neck, over his shoulders, down his arms, down his chest, his legs, all the way down to his feet, before standing up to be assaulted with kissing once more.

He was definitely human, he realized, as he became aroused, and, without any conscious thought, his hands slipped to the back of her dress to undo it.

"How did this happen?"

Fiyero froze. Her voice wasn't clouded with lust, no. It was crystal clear. He sighed. "You're thinking, aren't you," he groaned.

"It doesn't make any sense," she continued. "They said you can't reverse a spell once it's been cast." Fiyero sighed again, and stepped back to give her room to pace. "Do you suppose it's the air out here? Or... some sort of... ugh!"

"Well, what was the exact spell?" Fiyero leaned against a wall, arms folded over his chest, shifting slightly at the little pieces of straw that remained caught in his clothes to poke his skin. He knew that she wouldn't relax until she'd worked it out, and there was no point in trying to kiss her if she was thinking about magic.

Elphaba thought back to that night, and tried to remember what she had said. It was foggy, mixed up in a cloud of panic, but she eventually got the words to come out right. "Let his flesh not be torn, let his blood leave no stain. Though they beat him, let him feel no pain... Let his bones never break and however they try to destroy him, let him never die, let him never die..." She shivered at the mere memory of it.

Fiyero thought about it, realizing he might be in for a long night when nothing came to him. "I don't see a way past that," he shrugged. "But none of your other spells wore off, did they?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Chistery will have wings until the day he dies, and Boq..." She thought a bit more. "Wait - what did the spell hinge on?"

"Pardon me?"

"It hinged on your being in danger." Elphaba's eyes grew wide. "Though _they_ beat him. However _they_ try to destroy him." She took his very human hands in hers. "Fiyero, I think you're only a scarecrow when you need to be."

"But I wasn't in danger the whole way to the Emerald City, the whole way to find you. Nobody was beating me, then," he said, trying to work out the logistics of it.

"No, but they would have, if they'd known who you truly were."

Fiyero pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers, somehow wishing he could share her brain, even if only briefly. "That sounds like an accurate explanation," he said, understanding more and more as it sank in.

Elphaba pulled away. "I set you on fire," she said. "I threw fire at you on the yellow brick road, and I set you on fire at Kiamo Ko. That negates it."

"You're not _they_," Fiyero reminded her. "And you knew I'd be alright, both times. The first time, I had to hop out of the way, but it worked out alright. The second time, there was a bucket of water right nearby, where you'd placed it yourself." He kissed her. "You had no intent to actually harm me."

Elphaba nodded slightly, looking at if she almost believed their results, but still wasn't satisfied. "I still think we should test it," she grumbled.

"We can test it later," he soothed. Kissing her slowly, he murmured, "Are you appeased enough to settle down and make love to me?"

Elphaba felt her body lean into his, felt herself kiss him back, and wondered when, along the way, she'd become a woman so easily swayed by a kiss. "How did we get here?"

"I smiled at a girl behind a counter once, and she gave me a key to your room." Elphaba nodded, remembering. "Forever is going to be amazing," he smiled.

"I love you," she said, surprised how easily the words came.

Fiyero's grin lit their small hiding place. "Say it again," he breathed.

"I love you, Fiyero," she smiled.

"I've been in love with you since the first moment I saw you," he said. "And I'll be in love with you long beyond the day I die."

In the years to come, when Fae was joined by Arro, Glinda, Rose and Liir, the two would often look back on the moments they'd stolen before Elphaba had fled, and the time since, and wonder anew how they'd found each other, and, more than that, been lucky enough to stay together. They'd lost people along the way, endured years without each other, but they'd managed to come out of it in love and at peace, which is a lot to be said for a former scarecrow and Enemy of Oz.


End file.
